Seeing Is Believing
by Mrs Rosa Riddle
Summary: What do people see when they look at Hermione Granger and Bellatrix Lestrange? Love? Hate? Frienship? Do they really despise each other, or is it just an act? Will contain femslash, feedback is appreciated. Just added chapter 3!
1. What The Shopkeeper Saw

What The Shopkeeper Saw 

The shopkeeper discreetly observed the woman that had just entered his shop. Oh, she was a powerful witch, there was no doubt about it, she seemed to glide rather than walk, her whole body movements screaming confidence and superiority. 'Probably an arrogant pure blood' he thought to himself bitterly, polishing the stone that lay in his hand with vigor, but he continued to observe her nonetheless, she was not what one would typically describe as beautiful, but she was stunning in her own right, interesting to look at, to wonder about.

She was medium height, and although her body was naturally curved, her face contrasted dramatically, the protruding cheekbones rather gaunt compared to the rest of her features. She had lovely eyes though, a deep brown colour; they were not the eyes of an innocent soul, but rather eyes of one who had experienced life, through the good moments and the bad. Her lips were rather thin, but they were outlined in rouge, making them appear fuller, and the brightness complimented the paleness of her face. She was clothed only in black, black flowing skirts, an intricate black belt, and a rather plain black top that matched well with the rest of her clothing. Completing the outfit were her boots, they were leather, high-heeled boots, and they tapped rather irritatingly on the hard wooden floorboards, almost like a catchy chorus of a song.

He could not help but wonder about this unusual woman. What was her name? How old was she? Where did she live? Usually he could read people like a book, sense facts about them from the way they talked and moved, their body language and posture, hell, he could tell people facts that they hadn't even known about themselves. Not with this woman though, she was a mystery, a complete mystery, as unreadable as a book without words. From what he could sense, the guarded woman intended to keep it this way.

Suddenly, the sound of the bell jingling merrily above the door, dragged him out of his thoughts, and in walked someone who was completely different from the other. Fresh-faced and pretty, her expression oozed youth and innocence, whilst her body language held a sense of secrecy and pain. Fantastic, another unreadable one. He was surprised when the first woman, the woman he had rendered in his head as voiceless, cleared her throat and began to speak.

"Well, well, well, of all the people to bump into in Knockturn Alley…" she murmured, letting her voice trail off into a sharp silence. The younger witch moved closer to the elder, and the shopkeeper could tell straight away, just by the way their bodies interacted with each other, that they had quite a colourful history.

"Mrs. Lestrange, a pleasure, as always" the younger one snarled. Her tone was painted heavily with bitterness and sarcasm…but the shopkeeper felt, for just a moment, that there might have been a hint of truth in the statement.

Just a slither of truth, a dime, but truth. 'They' he thought to himself, beginning to polish the stone once more with fierce concentration, 'enjoy each other's company more than they let on'. Sighing to himself, he felt his crinkled eyes grow slightly watery, it was such a shame, to see pride win over love, Merlin knows he had seen enough of that already.


	2. What Narcissa Saw

What Narcissa saw

Narcissa observed her sister as she silently sipped tea, obviously distracted.

"Ok enough, tell me what's wrong," she demanded, her usually calm composure slipping as she waited for an explanation. "Nothing's wrong" came the singsong reply, and Narcissa folded her arms across her chest in irritation. Bellatrix had not been acting like herself for the past couple of weeks; she had lessened her torture on Mudbloods, lessened her worshipping of the Dark Lord, and generally acted like a completely different person. Although Narcissa knew that she should be glad of this sudden change, to be completely truthful, she found it unnerving.

"Please Bella" she begged, a desperate look crossing her pointed features "I'm your sister and I'm worried about you, please tell me what the matter is". Bellatrix thought it over for a few moments and then slouched down in her chair, exhaling loudly. "Ok fine" she agreed in reluctance "but promise me that you won't laugh, no matter how amusing or ridiculous you find it". Narcissa nodded her head in agreement, and sat in patient silence as she waited for her sister to start talking. "Well, the thing is…" Bellatrix began, wondering how to word her problem "I-I know this sounds stupid, but I bumped into that Granger girl the other day, and-and…" the dark-haired witch let her voice trail off, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy.

"And?" Narcissa prompted, giving her sister an encouraging smile and gesturing that she should continue. "AndIthinkIlikeher" Bellatrix blurted, slapping a hand over her wayward mouth in embarrassment. She did not know where that came from, but she had said it now, and there were two ways that Narcissa could react. "You think that you _like _her?" Narcissa questioned in evident disbelief, trying her hardest to stir her tea in a casual manner. Bellatrix nodded wordlessly, her face suddenly growing unusually red. "You like Granger…as in, _Hermione _Granger?" Narcissa asked, suddenly feeling as if she was receiving some very juicy gossip. Bellatrix nodded once more, wishing that she could cast a killing curse on herself.

"Why? She's a muggle born, you hate muggle borns" Narcissa stated, wondering if years of being a death eater had finally taken their toll on Bellatrix, and if she had actually lost her mind. "I _know_" Bellatrix wailed, burying her head in her hands "but I just can't help it Ciss, she's so…I notice _everything _about her, the way she drags her fingers through her hair when she's frustrated, the way she runs her thumb along the spine of books, the way she wriggles her hips when she walks-" Bellatrix's vocal list was cut off as Narcissa held a pale hand up in the air, requesting for her to stop talking. Suddenly, a smirk overtook Narcissa's face, and she pointed at Bellatrix accusingly "you _love _her, oh by Merlin, how could I have not noticed, this is _so _exciting!" she screeched happily, ignoring the glare that Bellatrix sent her way.

"I do not _love _her" Bellatrix hissed, through gritted teeth "I am a cold-hearted monster, I'm incapable of loving". But Narcissa was not listening, instead smiling widely and practically bouncing up and down in her seat with joy. "Bellatrix Lestrange is in love, oooh it's so _sweet_!" she squealed. Bellatrix screwed her face up into a disgusted expression, her dark eyes glinting dangerously with anger. "_Sweet?" _she spat "how dare you describe me as _sweet, _I'm leaving" she declared, grabbing her cloak and gliding past Narcissa. Just as she reached the door, she spotted a mischievous gleam in her sister's eyes, and looked at her with a deadly expression. "Don't you DARE try and start anything!" she warned, her eyes burning into her sister's forehead. "Oh don't worry, I won't" Narcissa trilled sweetly, slyly crossing her fingers behind her back as her sister left the room. Bellatrix was in love, and Narcissa would be a terrible sister if she did not help her realize it.


	3. What Ron Saw

A/N – Was hard for me to write Ron because, although I am quite fond of Percy Weasley, I find Ron and the rest of the Weasleys incredibly irritating (no offense to Weasley-lovers). Oh well, balanced it out with some ooc Narcissa! Thanks for all your reviews by the way, I appreciate them so much!

**What Ron Saw**

He knew that she didn't love him, he had known for quite some time now, and he also knew that she loved someone else. Well, he suspected she loved someone else; it could just be a crush - just like he was, a childish crush but nothing more. He wasn't _jealous _though, because he had known a long time ago that there was no spark in their relationship, no bond or understanding that went any further than a simple friendship. Contrary to what people believed, he could use his initiative, read between the lines, and it was quite clear that Hermione thought of him as nothing more than a kind, loyal friend.

And so, it came as no surprise when Hermione pinned him down for the inevitable 'discussion', and let him down gently. "It's not that I don't love you, I do, I'm just not _in love_ with you" she had said kindly "I'm just confused Ron, I don't know what I want anymore…I'm sorry, it's over". It's over. Well, at least she had been honest and blunt, that was something he had always admired and respected about her, even just as friends. And they would stay friends, because it wasn't a one-sided break-up full of tears and drama, more of an agreement, and understanding even. Ron knew that he should feel upset, but he just felt curious, he wanted to know who Hermione had set her sights on.

**~O~O~O~O~O~**

Trudging down the snow-covered streets, Ron sighed as he examined the slush that coated the rubber soles of his brand-new trainers. He really should have changed into a more sensible choice of footwear. Then, he gasped as he spotted a head of platinum-blonde hair. At first he thought it was 'The Amazing Bouncing Ferret', but then when he saw that the perfected hairstyle was streaked with black, he realized that it was, as he mentally called her, 'Mother Malfoy'. Cringing as she walked directly over to him, he nodded his head in what he hoped was a polite gesture.

"Mrs. Malfoy" he acknowledged, hoping to high heaven that the snobby cow wouldn't make any catty remarks about 'blood-purity' or shit to that effect.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley, I was just looking for you actually" she stated, causing Ron's eyes to widen in surprise. "R-really?" he squeaked, suddenly feeling like a small child again. "Yes, really" she confirmed, with an elegant nod to the head.

"I needed to talk to you about something quite important" she explained, raising a plucked eyebrow at Ron's frightened expression, "don't worry, I'm not going to make any offensive comments…well not intentionally anyway, perhaps we could go somewhere more private?" she requested, and Ron nodded his head and obediently followed, almost as if under 'Imperius'.

So that was how Ron found himself in a high-class restaurant, trying to ignore the disapproving glances that he received from waiters when they spotted his outfit, and wondering why the hell there were 15 different spoons to stir a simple cup of tea. Sure, he had been to what he had thought were nice places before, but the world of Narcissa Malfoy was one different to his altogether, and to say he felt uncomfortable would be an understatement. "So, erm, what did you want to talk about? Only, I'm meant to be meeting Harry and Hermione…" he trailed off, hoping that he did not sound rude. Narcissa's usually emotionless mask lit up slightly at his words, and Ron started to wonder what the bloody hell was going on.

"Ah yes, _Hermione_" she began, smirking slightly as she stirred her tea (with a pointed glance at Ron's _incorrect _choice of spoon), "Well you see, Mr. Weasley, that is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about…" Narcissa began, shedding all forms of restaurant-etiquette as she launched into a passionate speech about her maniac of a sister falling in love with a Mudblood – complete with uncharacteristic facial happiness and over-enthusiastic hand-gestures.

What felt like hours later, Ron managed to blink once or twice in shock, his jaw stiff from gaping like a baby-bird. Eventually, he shut his mouth with a snap, and stared at Narcissa, whose cheeks were slightly flushed from her heartfelt exclamation. "So?" she prompted, barley able to contain her excitement, "what do you think?" she questioned, smiling at Ron in a mixture of eagerness and expectation. Ron resumed his gaping, dropping his much-hated teaspoon down to the floor, where it landed with an embarrassingly loud clatter.

"I…I…erm…Mione, B-Bella, L-love? I think - think I…um-" then, Ron's incoherent stuttering ended when he stood up and promptly fainted, landing on the floor with a loud thud that grabbed the attention of all the other diners. Narcissa rolled her eyes, putting her head in her hands in exasperation – she never thought that she would admit this, but perhaps having a conversation with Potter would be marginally better.


End file.
